


Ones and Zeroes

by B4DW0LF



Category: Titanfall
Genre: Angst, Depression, Friendship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B4DW0LF/pseuds/B4DW0LF
Summary: Jack is depressed, and dealing with the loss of a friend. However, there may be hope.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is set a little after the events of Titanfall 2. So beware of spoilers!

 

It isn’t easy to describe the feeling of being torn from a neural link.

 

Jack thinks of, “having your heart pulled through your chest” but that’s a little dramatic. It felt as though the air had been sucked from his lungs, like a swift kick to the chest. But it also felt like the world’s worst migraine, like a million knives were going ham on his brain. It hurt behind his eyes and his damn nose bled.

 

But even that doesn’t quite accurately describe it. Some of those things weren’t even immediate. He didn’t have a migraine until _days_ later.

 

Commander Briggs told him that pilots don’t usually experience things like that. She thinks that it’s because they had such a strong bond.

 

Jack thought they did too. _Why_? He doesn’t know. Maybe it’s because it was so immediate—because they both needed to rely on one another to survive.

 

He supposes that when you really have to rely on someone, you form a bond. It was life and death for two of them, so they needed to put their complete trust in one another. They had to keep close, they had to protect each other.

 

BT protected Jack as much as he possibly could, but he also protected him in a time where he didn’t need it. Jack was alright with dying in that moment. They had to do what they were about to do. There was no other option, and Jack was content with that. He had made his peace, right then and there.

 

He really didn’t expect BT to throw him out of his cockpit. _Fuck_ —he told him that he wasn’t going anywhere. _He told him._

 

Jack inhales sharply. He shouldn’t think about that.

 

It was hard, the first few days after what happened. He couldn’t sleep, had trouble eating, the works. It all had really taken a toll on him. He was tired, in every sense of the word.

 

Briggs had him report to their medical center. They told him he simply needed rest, and that with time, he would be fine. So they gave him something to help with the sleeplessness and that was it.

 

Only, it wasn’t that he _couldn’t_ sleep, it was that he didn’t want to.

 

Imagine closing your eyes only to be woken up to the feeling of some terrifying creature having your legs for dinner.

 

Imagine closing your eyes and immediately seeing a gun thrust into your face. Someone is talking, loud and angry, before the gun goes off and you jump out of bed like it was on fire.

 

Imagine closing your eyes and the first thing you see is an explosion. Bright, white, and hot. So hot he can sometimes still feel it.

 

Yeah. You wouldn’t want to sleep either.

 

Jack sighs deeply and turns to lay on his back. He looks to his bedside table, the abandoned sleeping pills sat there, staring at him. They disagree.

 

He scoffs.

 

Pushing the pills to the side, he peers at the bright red clock.

 

3:45 AM.

 

Jack yawns. He could feel the temptation of sleep setting in. _Fuck_ —

 

He needs coffee.

 

He groans and slips out from underneath the covers; the thought of sleep right now is terrifying. He’ll sleep another time.

 

Jack slips his feet into his boots, tying them lazily. Before going to the door, he reaches for the gun he keeps underneath his pillow. As he was trained, just in case.

 

As he stands, he slips his gun into his waistband. All he can think of at the moment is coffee. He’s lucky that he’s fairly close to the cafeteria.

 

He opens the door only to stop halfway.

 

Jack furrows his brows, he could have sworn he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

 

Closing the door, he takes a look around his room. Nothing. It was dark, save for the light coming from underneath his door.

 

He must be seeing things now. Great, add _that_ to his list of problems.

 

Jack reaches for the door handle only to see it again, a few quick flashes in quick succession. He turns swiftly, facing the wall to his right, where his bookshelf is. Where his helmet sits, alone.

 

As he approaches it, the helmet flashes. Jack picks it up in his hands carefully. It could just be malfunctioning, he’s sure he’s hit his head once or twice with this thing on. His thumb gently glides over it. The flickering stops, and then starts again.

 

Interesting.

 

Jack stares at it for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. The lights continue, they flicker for a while and then stop. And then start again.

 

Very interesting.

 

There’s not a doubt in Jack’s mind that this is some sort of message. Maybe some sort of message from Captain Lastimosa? With the quick succession in which the lights appear, it _can’t_ be morse code. Surely the Captain would have done it in morse code, they’re taught to. Jack bites his lip. There’s something here, he knows it.

 

A sudden light bulb flicks on in his head. Jack turns on his heel and heads out the door of his quarters. Commander Briggs might be able to tell what this is, and he knows for sure that she’s awake. She gets up at the crack of dawn every day.

 

Jack hurries down the corridors. He’s probably waking up every other pilot on this floor, especially since he’s now _running_ down the stairs. But he can’t find himself to care. Deep down he knows that this is _something._ He hopes he’s right.

 

As he turns a corner and arrives at the hangar he is met with a voice, “Cooper, I could hear you running from in here, what’s going on?”

 

He stops a moment to catch his breath, which he _really_ shouldn’t be out of, and holds up his helmet.

 

Briggs furrows her eyebrows at the flickering blue lights of the helmet. “Is it broken? I can have someone come and fix it later, I don’t think anyone from engineering is awake right now.” A pause, “ _Y_ _ou_ should be sleeping. What happened to those pills you were meant to take?”

 

He waved her off, something he wouldn’t normally do, but there’s that _feeling_ again. Deep in his chest.

 

“It’s a message.”

 

She can see the way Jack’s eyes are lit up, the way they now shine with hope. Something she hasn’t seen before. “Morse code?”

 

“No, no—something else. I—I don’t know what, but my instincts tell me that it’s a message.”

 

The Commander regards him for a moment before taking the helmet from his hands, holding up and watching the lights flicker. She turns to her titan.

 

“Hey—any idea what this is?”

 

The titan rears it’s head, optic blinking slowly.

 

“It is a pilot’s helmet, ma’am.”

 

She sighs. “Yes, I _know._ But the lights, they’re blinking. Can you tell me if it’s some sort of code?”

 

The titan re-adjusts, leaning down and staring intently at the object.

 

“It is binary.”

 

“What does it say?” He asks hurriedly.

 

A beat.

 

“It says… ‘Jack.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really not quite sure how neural links work within the Titanfall world, but I imagine side-affects of the link getting fucked up would be pretty bad.
> 
> Anyways, I know that this fandom is pretty small but I hope someone enjoys it. I think I may write a sequel soon!


End file.
